Forevers
by moreanonymousthanu
Summary: AU w/out ghost hunting. Destiel love story. *warning: major character death*


**Chapter One: The Beginning of The Rest of Your Life**

It's funny how the most important days of your life start out just like normal.

The most important day of Castiel Novak's life began just like any other.

Well—maybe not most important. Maybe not _most _important. But it was one of the biggest days, one of the days when even the stars can't fathom how much the world has just changed.

One of the biggest days of Castiel Novak's life began just like any other.

_Beep…beep…beep..._

Cas rolled up onto one elbow, turning the alarm clock off. He stretched and jumped out of bed, hopping into the shower.

It was too early.

_Why_ had he signed up for so many morning classes?

He rushed around the little apartment, dripping water everywhere. White t-shirt, brown trench coat, out the door—wait, no.

He'd forgotten his backpack.

He ran back inside, grabbing it from the couch and slinging it over his shoulder, barely locking the door before sprinting downstairs.

He slid onto his bike and started pedaling before he even got settled on the seat, the tail of his coat trailing off behind him like the tail of a comet.

_8:25—almost late for class._

But he couldn't stop smiling.

_College._

It was so new, so beautiful. The world was so beautiful.

He couldn't stop smiling.

It's funny how the most important days of your life start out just like normal.

The most important day of Dean Winchester's life began just like any other.

Well—maybe not most important. Maybe not _most _important. But it was one of the biggest days, one of the days when the tides pause in their _in _and _out _to puzzle at how much the world has just changed.

One of the biggest days of Dean Winchester's life began just like any other.

_Beep…beep…beep…_

"Oh, _fuck!_"

Dean rolled up and onto one elbow, reaching out to find the alarm clock. He slapped the top of it, searching for snooze, searching for off, searching for _anything. _

"God_dammit_!"

In one motion, he ripped the plug from the wall and hurled the clock across the room.

_Better, _he thought, _so much better._

His headache was getting worse.

He rolled over onto his stomach with a moan, burying his head under one of the nasty motel pillows.

_Dean._

The voice was calling him again.

_Dean, you've been drinking again._

"No shit, Sherlock."

Dean moaned—was he going crazy? He was talking to the voice in his head again.

But it wasn't just any voice—it was _his _voice.

_Dean—_

"Shut up, Sammy. Just _shut up. _I can't—I can't deal with this.

_Come on, man. I'm just saying—_

"You're _just saying _that I'm an alcoholic like dad. You're _just saying _that I'm going to die the same way he did—in a downhill slide of addictions and bad habits and obsessions. Well you know what, Sammy? I'm _just not listening _to whatever shit you're _just saying._"

_That's harsh, Dean._

A tear ran down the side of his face, dropping onto the stained sheets.

"_Shut up, _Sammy! Stop it! STOP IT."

_Dean…_

"_Please, _Sammy," he was sobbed, "_Please, _please, please stop."

Silence.

Cas replayed the lecture over, pausing the recorder after he heard that part again.

_Right._

Math had never been his best subject.

With a sigh, he rewound it and played it again, running a hand through his hair.

"Hey!"

Cas glanced up, looking around. The old lady shelving books looked up, tilting her head sternly.

"_Hey!"_

"_Young man! _This is a _library!_"

The man rolled his eyes, walking up to her.

"Sorry, sweetheart. It won't happen again. Now—"

The woman snorted, saying, "See that it doesn't," before returning to shelving books.

With a heavy sigh, the man turned away, shaking his head. Then he caught Cas's eye, walking over.

"Hey, man. Can I have a little help?"

Cas shrugged, scooching away from the man's intimidating stature, "I…I, uh. Help?"

The man laughed, catching Cas's blue eyes again, "Yeah. _Help. _Finding books? The crazy cat lady over there is being spectacularly unhelpful."

"Ms. Francesca is a longstanding member of the community."

_Oh, God, _Cas thought, _Did I seriously just say that? Did I really just…? Oh my God._

The man dropped into the seat across from Cas, "Okay, yeah. I'm sorry about offending your friendly neighborhood grandma. I was just—whatever. You know what? Whatever. Libraries are shit. I just—this was a stupid idea. Whatever. Bye."

He stood, turning away. Cas dropped his eyes back to his books, and when he glanced up, the man was gone.

_Goddammit. I'm so stupid._

Dean rested his head against the brick wall of the library, eyes closed.

_Damn._

With shaking hands, he pulled a cigarette from the pack in his front pocket. He fumbled for the lighter in his pocket, pulling it out and lighting it.

He inhaled deeply, breathing out the smoke.

The sky was too blue, the leaves too orange.

The world was too much.

Too damn much.

"Fuck," he whispered, "I just wanted to do something nice for you, Sammy. Something nice for you, and I can't even do…I can't do anything, dammit."

"Hello?"

His eyes flashed open again, grasping at the first thing they saw—blue. Blue eyes, blue eyes, blue eyes.

Blue like Sammy's favorite plaid shirt.

Blue like the textbooks he used to pile up everywhere.

Blue.

Dean closed his eyes again.

"Um, sir? I can help you. I'm sorry. I reacted…rudely. I apologize."

"Will you do me a favor, kid?"

"Uhhh…"

"Can you go over to the Impala on the other side of the parking lot and grab the bottle of whiskey from under the driver's seat?"

"I…um, sir?"

"Kid, just do this one little thing for me."

"Will you _stop _calling me _kid? _I'm the same age as you are!"

"Yeah? Then stop acting like a kid and just go."

"Keys?"

"Here, _kid._"

Minutes later, a flask appeared in Dean's hand, and the keys were returned to the other.

"Thanks, kid. I was worried that you'd stolen my car."

"I told you to stop calling me _kid._"

Dean's eyes flashed open again, and he squinted against the sunlight. The person he'd originally assumed to be a boy did appear to be around about the same age as him—maybe a few years younger.

"You're…24?"

The boy—man—shook his head, "23. You?"

"25. Whatever that means."

They were quiet for a moment, and then the man whispered, "I'm Cas."

"Dean."

_Dean._

"Well, hello, Dean."

"Um, hi."

Cas held out his hand, but Dean made no effort to shake it. Dropping his hand to his side, Cas said, "Pleasure to meet you."

Dean burst into laughter, but it was this miserable, sad sort of laughter that was so much like a fit off coughing or maybe crying that Cas couldn't tell. Sinking to his knees, Dean leaned back against the wall of the library and replied, "Don't be a liar. No one ever thinks it's a pleasure to meet _me."_

"Of course it's a pleasure to meet you! Meeting anyone is a pleasure."

"Aren't you just a little ray of sunshine?"

"Honestly? No. I'm not."

An awkward silence sat between them, broken only by the sound of whiskey sloshing from the flask and into Dean's throat.

"Smoking, drinking, yelling at old librarians—"

"—Hey, I never yelled at her! I just—"

"—Clearly, you've lost someone."

More silence.

Cas leaned forward, staring into Dean's eyes, "Come on, man. I—"

"_No! _No, no, no. Sammy, god, Sammy, I'm so sorry."

Dean rested his forehead against his knees, mumbling incessantly.

Cas stared at him, at the shoulder-blades protruding from his back. The way he spat words and names at the ground, like maybe if he said their name enough times, they'd hear you and come home.

It didn't cross his mind that he had a test the next day, or that he didn't know anything about _Dean. _He recognized the lost look in his eyes, the frantic jerk of his hands.

"Come on, Dean," he whispered. Wrapping one arm over Dean's shoulders, he yanked them both to their feet. Carefully, he helped the swaying man back to the Impala, letting him fall into the passenger seat.

Cas slid his hand into Dean's pocket and grabbed the keys, flushing a deep red.

He slid into the driver's seat and pulled out of the parking lot, headed for home.

Dean woke up in a bed that didn't have a thin, motel mattress or the lingering scent of unwashed bodies. The sheets were clean, and so was the pillowcase. The pillow actually had stuffing.

The headache was the same, though.

_Dean…_

"I don't have _time _for this, Sammy," he grunted gruffly, rolling off the bed and onto his feet.

A form appeared in the doorway—Dean recognized them.

"Hey, Dean. Are you, um, okay?"

Cas. His hair was swept up into little tufts, and his shirt was wrinkled from sleep. The creases around his eyes were more obvious, and a shadow of stubble hung around on his chin.

"I'm fine, Cas. Where am I?"

"My apartment. You were on the verge of passing out, and you were kind of a wreck. I didn't know where you were staying."

"And you dragged me all the way up here? And into your bed? You slept on the couch, didn't you? Jeezus, Cas! I could've taken the couch. It doesn't matter to me. Hell, you didn't have to do this at all."

"I know. A simple thank you would be enough."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. Thanks. I'm just…I don't even know who the hell you are, and you're letting me stay in your apartment?"

"You were drunk."

"Yeah."

Cas glanced away awkwardly, looking at the clock, "Oh! I have to get ready—I have a class that starts soon."

"Class?"

"Uh, yeah? I'm in college."

"Wow," Dean chuckled, his voice going gravelly, "College."

"You…aren't?"

"Naw. College isn't exactly my _scene. _That was more Sa—um."

"It's okay. You can talk about him, or not. Whatever. Sammy, right? You were talking about him."

"I was? Dammit."

"Yeah. You were. Was he your…boyfriend?"

"_Boyfriend? _No! I don't exactly, um, swing that way. He is—was. Dammit. He was my brother."

"…Oh. I take it you were close?"

"I practically _raised _the kid. My dad was a drunk, and he was always off on these trips out of town—he'd get drunk and just drive in a direction for as long as he could before pulling over and sleeping in the nearest motel. And eventually he'd remember us, and he'd come home. He was just, I don't know, sad or something. About my mom's death. Burglar killed her when Sammy was just a baby and it really messed him up. I always—wait. Why am I telling you all this?"

Cas gave him a small, sad smile, "I tend to have that effect on people."

"You make them spill their guts?"

"I make them inclined to trust me."

Dean grunted, glancing away, "You said you had a class to go to, or something?"

"The class can wait."

Cas had never skipped class before.

He considered it a miracle that he even got to go to school, and he didn't like wasting the opportunity.

But this Dean person, he made the world look different.

It was like seeing an old photograph, grainy and vintage and lacking a whole lot of clarity. Dean's presence made the world confusing.

But the unusual part wasn't how blurry he made the world—plenty of people do that.

The unusual part was that it made the world more beautiful.

And his eyes were so green and he was so beautiful and so heartbroken and…

Cas leaned forward and kissed him, on the cheek.

Dean sat up straight, frozen stiff for a moment. And then he tipped his head, returning the kiss.

"You don't swing that way, eh?" Cas said, pulling away.

Dean smirked, "Not at all."

**Chapter Two: Not Part of the Plan**

"Cas," Dean whispered, "_Cas!"_

He hated waking Cas up in the mornings.

He just looked so peaceful when he was sleeping, angelic. His hair standing on end, his hands tucked under his cheek.

_Boyfriend._

It felt so strange rolling off of Dean's lips.

Dean had always been a ladies' man, his handsome body and bad-boy attitude drawing them in like moths to a light.

But there was something about Cas…

The way he viewed the world, like it was his oyster. Nothing was too dark to keep out the sunshine in his eyes, the dewdrops in his laughter. Even when he was serious, he was adorable. His eyes were always grinning.

And he was so damn _smart. _He wanted to be a _lawyer. _If you got him started talking about the law, he wouldn't stop for hours. His thirst for justice…

Everything about him was endearing.

Dean hadn't even considered liking men. It hadn't exactly crossed his mind, really.

But Cas was just so _different._

"_Cas, _get up! You're going to be late!"

Cas mumbled, rolling over, throwing his arm up to cover his face.

_I'm proud of you, Dean. You haven't had a drink in a month._

"I don't want to let him down," Dean whispered, "Dammit, Sammy. I let you down so often, _so often, _and I don't want that to happen again."

Cas's hand slid out from under the covers and curled around Dean's fingers, "Dean, my love. You won't let me down. You _can't _let me down."

Dean smiled to himself. _God, _but that man was adorable.

"Get up, sleepyhead."

"Yeah, yeah."

_Boyfriend._

It sounded so beautiful.

Cas studied Dean's face from across the table, the slope of his forehead, the smirking tilt of his lips.

_God, but you're gorgeous. _

"I'm so lucky," he whispered.

Dean startled out of his trance, his eyes finally refocusing on Cas's face, "Huh, what?"

"Nothing. I was just talking to myself."

"You aren't going crazy on me, are you?"

"Talking to yourself is a sign of genius!"

"Crazy."

"Genius."

"Whatever, babe. I've always liked the crazy ones.

Cas rolled his eyes—he'd never really done that before, not until he met Dean.

_Damn, I love him._

It was all so new.

This had never been part of the plan.

Finishing the road trip—that had been the plan.

In 2001, Sammy ran away to go to college. He wanted to be a lawyer, just like Cas.

In 2003, John's car ended up wrapped around an old oak tree by the side of the highway.

A month after his funeral, Dean and Sam decided to reconnect by going on a road trip across the United States, a leisurely trek from east to west and back again. It was supposed to take two months.

And then.

And then, Dean let Sammy down one time too many.

He wanted to finish the trip the two of them had started, to drag himself two the Pacific Ocean, just to see it. Just to remember.

But then he stopped in this little college town, and he meant to stay for a day but…

But then this cute, dorky college kid helped him when no one else would.

But then, he stayed for a couple extra days.

But then, he fell in love.

This had never been part of the plan.

_Stop it. Please, Dean, just stop._

Cas wanted to say something, but he was lost. That look in Dean's eyes took his breath away, took his words away. It made him lose his mind.

_Just stop looking so __**sad, **__Dean!_

He didn't stop.

It crept over his face when he thought Cas was looking away. Dean would be sitting there, across the table from him, watching him study. And then this wave crashed from one cheekbone to the next, the unshed tears pooling in the bags beneath his eyes, the broken heartstrings winding themselves over his lips.

Dean caught him staring and grinned, "Hey, you. I thought you were working on a thesis or some shit."

"Actually, it's a—"

Dean scooted over and interrupted him with a kiss, "I love you, Cas, really, but if you start talking law to me again, I'm likely to fall asleep. Let's _go _somewhere!"

"Where?"

Dean shot to his feet, grabbing his jacket from the couch, "Anywhere. You aren't working, and I'm tired of sitting here. Come _on._"

Cas let himself be dragged out the door, laughing as Dean tickled him.

But that _look._

He couldn't forget it.

They ended up going to the local amusement park. The roller coasters weren't impressive, and they were definitely the oldest couple there.

They got a few odd looks, but Dean just rolled his eyes.

Cas flinched when a mother herded her children in the opposite direction, casting a disapproving glance at their locked hands. But Dean just met her gaze and leaned over to kiss Cas on the lips, grinning as she gasped at shook her head. He held up his middle finger at her retreating back, only laughing when Cas smacked him in the shoulder.

"What?"

"That was _rude_."

"She was being a bitch."

Cas stared at him for a long moment, and Dean smiled, "Cheer up, man. It's a great day! Just look at the sky, at the trees! It's awesome. Don't give me that look."

"Why are you so happy?"

"Is there some reason I shouldn't be? It's a beautiful day, I'm on a date with my beautiful boyfriend, and we are going to buy some cotton candy and share it and then our kisses will taste like sugar and snowflakes. I have absolutely no reason to be _unhappy._"

"Are you _high_?"

"Absolutely not."

He wasn't high. He was just…sad. The way Cas looked at him—like he was wounded, like he was something broken in need of fixing—he didn't want that.

Cas finally broke into a smile, "Cotton candy, huh?"

Cas grinned at the attendant as he brought the safety bar down over their laps, waiting patiently for the roller coaster to start up. He could feel Dean shaking in the seat next to him, and glanced over.

"You alright?"

Dean gritted his teeth, "_I'm fine._"

"What? Tell me what it is."

"Just…I'm—" Dean broke off as the ride started up, glancing wildly in both directions as though he was looking for an escape route, "—_not a big fan of heights._"

Dean heaved a breath, glancing at Cas out of the corner of his eye.

"Then why did you let me drag you onto this thing?" Cas asked.

"_Facing…my…fears._"

Cas laid a hand on Dean's, twining their fingers together, "It's alright. Close your eyes."

"I'm _fine._"

"Close your eyes, sweetheart."

Dean's eyes fluttered shut.

"Okay. Take a deep breath—you're fine. You're okay."

"We're still going up?"

"Slowly but surely. Think of something that makes you happy."

"You sound like a shrink."

"Darling, this isn't going to get better if you just sit there and think about how scared you are. Think about your happiest moments."

_Cas. Cas's face. Smiling at books, smiling at me, smiling. Deep in thought, brow furrowed. Asleep, tufts of hair sticking up everywhere. __**Cas.**_

"Focus. Think about a specific moment, a specific place. Imagine it like it's right next to you, like it's all around you."

"But you _are _right beside me, Cas."

Cas stuttered, and then fell silent.

And then they were falling.

"SONOFABITCH"

Dean couldn't breathe, he couldn't speak, he couldn't think.

But he kept his eyes open.

_But you __**are **__right beside me, Cas._

The words wouldn't leave his mind.

They were there when they ate dinner, when they drove around in the Impala, singing way too loud, when they drove home. They were there when he fell asleep, Dean's breath warming his neck.

They were there when he woke up.

They never left.

And neither did Dean.

**Chapter Three: Yes**

"What do you think about adoption?"

"I…"

He couldn't think. He couldn't think.

His mind couldn't comprehend anything beyond

"Will you marry me?"

and

"Yes."

Dean waved a hand in front of Cas's face, "Hello? Sweetheart? Anyone home?"

"Oh, yeah. I just. I love you, Dean."

He grinned, "I would hope so, Cas. Given that we're getting married and all."

"I can't think right now."

Dean's eyes softened, and he laid a hand on Cas's shoulder, "You don't have to. I was getting way ahead of myself, anyways."

Honestly, he couldn't think much, either. Everything was overshadowed by

_Yes._

_He said yes._

_He said yes._

Dean wanted to paint the words somewhere in the gaps between stars, he wanted to scream them at the sky so loudly the earth would shatter. He wanted to etch them into his bones, to ring out the clouds and dance in the rain and _he said yes._

Cas had woken up to Dean's hands in his hair, Dean's head next to his on the pillow, for two years.

And it never got old.

"Do you think people might think we're a little…_young _to get married?"

Dean laughed, "I don't think our age will be the first thing to phase them."

"Oh. Right."

Dean looked at him over the table, seeming to sense his nervousness.

"Hey, don't worry. It's okay, baby. If some bastard has a problem with us, then he'll have to deal with me. Love is love, and I don't see how gender even figures into it. Don't let them get to you, honey. They're just small-minded fools who seem to think that _we're _the freaks."

"Right."

He couldn't believe that this was actually happening.

_Hey, Dean._

Dean's eyes flashes opened. He hadn't thought about Sam in months—why now?

_What the fuck, Sam? This is a dream. Get out of my head._

**_Dean._**

_Shut __**up.**_

Dean sat up, shaking his head. Carefully, he crept from the room and sat in the kitchen, lowering his head into his hands.

_What do you want now, Sammy? I get it. I let you down, and I'm sorry. I am so fucking sorry. If I could take it all back…._

_Relax, Dean. I'm not here to bitch at you about your mistakes. I'm here to say congratulations. And to say goodbye._

_Goodbye?_

_Yeah. You've gotten over your guilt for what happened, so I'm going now. I was never real, Dean. I'm just in your head, just a ghost from your past. I'm just your subconscious, reminding you about the past. I'm just in your head, and now, I'm leaving._

_Goodbye?_

_Goodbye, Dean. _

"I had the _strangest _dream last night, Cas."

"Yeah?" Cas glanced up from the morning paper, his gaze pausing to admire his engagement ring before rising to meet Dean's.

"Yeah."

"What was it about?"

"That's the weird thing. I can't quite remember."

_Don't lie to me, Dean. You were dreaming about him again. Your brother._

Dean had never told him anything about Sam, not since that first day. All he knew was that he was Dean's brother, and that he was dead. The second part was obvious—the pained look that flashes across his face whenever the name 'Sam' or especially 'Sammy' was mentioned, the way he mumbled the name in his sleep.

Cas hadn't really questioned it. He wondered, for a while, if Dean had been lying, and Sam was actually his ex, and that was why he didn't talk about him. But he'd given up on that idea.

Maybe it was just too painful, or maybe it was something else. Cas never brought it up.

But the look on Dean's face…

"Was it something to do with Sam?"

Dean looked away, "No. Why would you think that?"

May 2nd seemed like a perfectly fine day to get married, although Cas didn't understand why Dean insisted on it.

Neither of them had that many people to invite. Cas's siblings were all really distant, and his parents didn't approve of Dean. Maybe they would show up, maybe they wouldn't.

A few other people would be attending.

But the short guest list, the low budget…it didn't bother them.

The attendees didn't matter, the size of the cake, the location. What mattered was _each other._

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

Dean rolled over to face him, propping his head up on one elbow.

Cas put down his book and scooched closer, "Can you believe that we're getting married in a _month?_"

"It's pretty unbelievable, huh?"

"I just…I never thought we'd make it this far. I always thought that this whole thing was two good to be true, that one day you would wake up and realize that you're just so much _more _than I am. I thought you'd realize that…that you have absolutely no reason to love me. Honestly, I'm still afraid."

Dean reached out, running his hands through Cas's hair, kissing his forehead, "Why did you never ask me about this?"

"I…I was scared that talking about it would make it true."

"What do you mean, I'm _more _than you? That I have no reason to love you?"

"Can't you see it, Dean? You're so _alive. _You're this brilliant, fierce person. You _live _life. I just…I dunno. You're a forest fire and I'm a candle. I'm _nothing _standing next to you. No one looks at me, no one _sees _me. You're everything I'm not."

Dean's jaw dropped, and he stared blankly at Cas, "I cannot _believe—_I just—you…"

He shook his head and stood up, stomping from the room.

Cas leapt out of bed, chasing after him.

"Dean? _Dean?_"

Dean didn't turn around, he just kept moving. He grabbed his jacket, throwing it on viciously. He snatched the car keys from the table and threw open the door.

Cas raced after him, a step behind. He caught Dean's sleeve, only to be shaken off. Dean gave him a long, steady stare before slamming the door.

The period at the end of the sentence.

No matter how much Cas had feared this, he'd never really thought it was true.

All he could do was cry.

He dropped onto his knees and rested his forehead on the door, sobbing.

Dean left.

Dean had _left._

"What have I done?" Cas gasped, "What have I _done?_"

The door didn't have any answers.

How could Cas _think _that?

It made him so angry.

The thought that people looked at him, and not at Cas? That was _absurd. _He captivated attention, drawing stares with every motion. He…he was _everything. _Cas was stardust and teardrops and stones at the bottom of the river and the taste of rain on the air and the sea breeze that coated everything in salt.

Cas was galaxies and moonbeams and tides and sunshine and dust in the headlights of the Impala.

Cas was light shining through stained glass windows and the scent of toasting marshmallows and that color halfway between slate blue and infinite skies.

Cas was _everything._

How could Dean be _more _than him? How could Dean be _anything _compared to him?

He was like the broken tip of a pencil, useless and sad and small and finite. He should have been nothing through the eyes of the great infinity that was Castiel Novak, and yet he managed to be enough to love.

How could Cas even consider that, any of it?

**Chapter Four: Everything to Me**

Dean ran out of anger before he ran out of gas, and managed to nudge the Impala back to the apartment parking lot.

He carefully opened the door, trying not to make any sound.

The door wouldn't open much, though. Sliding through the small opening, Dean looked to see what was obstructing it from opening all the way.

_Oh._

_Oh, sweetheart._

And then he realized.

_Cas was so scared that I would stop loving him, and I was so angry that he could even think that, but to him…._

_To him…_

_He thought his fears had come true._

**_Dammit. _**

_Why am I such a dick? Fuck._

_Oh, baby._

He knelt, pulling Cas's head onto his lap. He'd fallen asleep lying in front of the door.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, "Oh, sweetheart. I'm so sorry. _So sorry. _I love you so much. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Baby, I didn't mean anything. I love you. _I love you._"

Cas's eyes flashed open, and he stared for a moment before crawling up onto his knees, facing Dean.

"Dean? I didn't…I didn't know if you were coming back."

"Oh, honey. I would never just leave you. _Never. _I love you so much, Cas. I just…I just needed some air."

"Why did you need air? Because what I said was true?"

"_No."_

"But it _is _true. They all see you, Dean, not me. You're this beacon of _life, _you're _somebody, _and I'm _nobody._ I've always been nobody."

"How can you even _think _that? _Everyone _sees you, Cas."

"No one sees me."

"_I _see you. I see you, and only you. Honestly? Those people on the streets? I don't know which one of us they stare at, because I'm always looking at you, not at them. I don't care what those bastards think. All I care about is _you, _Cas.

"In comparison to you, I don't feel like the forest fire. I don't feel more _alive. _I feel like I'm this little _speck, _and for some reason, you've given me the privilege of being witness to your brilliance. I'm just this insignificant observer who gets to watch you, to love you. I'm so lucky, Cas. _So lucky._"

"Is that…is that really what you think?"

Dean sighed, wrapping his arms around this beautiful, tragic angel of his, "Of course, Cas. Of course that's what I think. What else could I think?"

"I love you, Dean. I will love you forever."

"Save it for the ceremony, sweetheart. Don't give away your forevers too soon."

"No. I'm promising you forever _now. _Forever, Dean. I will never stop."

"Same, Cas. You are my world, and you are the only world I want. I want to raise a kid with you, a little boy or girl that we can call our own. I want to build this life around our love, make a kingdom of our own and never let it fall."

**Chapter Five: Forevers**

Dean was out of town for a few days—checking on his godfather, Bobby. Cas was all alone in their apartment.

He didn't even know what to do without Dean.

His life had become Dean and college, college and Dean. Homework and kisses and listening to lectures with his head in Dean's lap. It was this twisted, overlapping mess of love and studying and there wasn't any room for anything else.

Cas ended up spending time at the library, reading. There wasn't anything else.

His friends were all busy—the few friends that he had. But all he wanted was for Dean to get back, for him to sweep Cas up into a huge hug and set him down with that grin on his face. They could go out bowling, and Dean would inevitably beat him the first time and let him win the second. They could play Dean's favorite songs, which had become Cas's favorite songs, so loud that the neighbors complained, and dance around the kitchen, singing at the top of their lungs.

He just wanted Dean to come home.

People should not drink and drive.

"What? I can't hear you? Bobby? Take a deep breath. Start over.

"What? I can't….

"What?

"I…

"What?"

This could not be happening.

This was impossible.

_Dean?_

Dean was coming home the next morning. The familiar chug of the Impala would appear outside the window, and Cas would race downstairs, and Dean would kiss him and he would finally breathe again.

Right?

But no.

Dean.

"Dean? _Dean?_"

Cas couldn't stop whispering his name, except for some reason the neighbor was knocking on the door and yelling at him that they were trying to sleep but why would it matter to them because he was just whispering, wasn't he just whispering? Or was he screaming? Who was screaming?

He couldn't stop screaming.

His mind ran in the same circles, running, running, running so fast that it ran circles into his brain but he couldn't stop couldn't stop couldn't stop he just

Dean.

He was drowning and he was breathing in the water and it tasted like salt and

Dean.

He was a candle but it was raining and someone had left this candle outside and

Dean.

Dean had always said he was this great, infinite entity and he had always felt so small but now, in the face of this, he did feel infinite. He felt like there were forevers hidden in between his ribs and tucked between his fingertips and there were universes colliding in his throat and black holes gaping in his heart and in that moment

Cas finally felt infinite, and Dean wasn't there to see it.

Dean would never be there again.

**Chapter Six: Why**

"It's alright, son. I've lost a lot of loved ones, and it gets easier."

Cas shook away Bobby's hand, turning away from him, "Why the _fuck _would I want it to get easier? Isn't that just like forgetting? Why? I don't want it to get easier. I want every single day to be hell. I want there to be nails driven into my heels and I want every single moment to be agony and I want these glass bones to _shatter. _Dammit, Bobby, I want to break into a million pieces."

"Never thought Dean woulda picked a poetic one. Never thought he'd pick a man, neither, but that don't bother me. Now, son, I'm gonna need you to take a deep breath. I know it's hard for you—"

"Shut up, Bobby. I want it to be hard for me. _It should be hard for me. _I don't want your help. I want the pain. It's the only way I can believe it actually happened."

The preacher wouldn't shut up.

Dean didn't care about the redemption, going to heaven, 'god rest his soul' shit.

This service wasn't for Dean at all.

They hadn't planned to have a pastor read their vows. Dean didn't care for them, he said their religion blinded their sense of reality.

This wasn't for Dean.

Not at all.

The man talking to Bobby wouldn't stop staring at Cas.

He was tall, with shaggy hair and too much stubble for a funeral.

Later, a hand landed on Cas's shoulder. He turned numbly to face the man, staring blankly up at a face that looked sort of familiar but he couldn't quite—

"Um, hi. I'm Sam. I understand that you and Dean were…engaged?"

_Sam._

"But you're dead? I mean, aren't you…aren't you dead?"

Sam's jaw dropped, and he glanced around uncomfortably before looking back at Cas, "Did…did Dean tell you that? That I was dead?"

"No. He never outright _said _that you were dead. I just assumed, I guess. Based on the way he talked about you in the past tense."

"I didn't die. I just…Dean had to raise me, you know, because Dad was such a flake. And he was really protective. And one night while we were in the car together, he was drunk and had an accident. I was hurt pretty badly—broken, bruised, you know. But okay.

"Dean, though. He took it hard. He kept talking about how much of a failure he was, about how he failed me and he failed everyone and how all he ever did was hurt me. And then one night, he disappeared from the motel room. He took the car with him."

_Dean._

Cas looked away, tears stumbling over his lashes as words stumbled over his lips, "So he hasn't talked to you in two whole years?"

"No. He said all he'd ever do was ruin me."

"Goddammit, I miss him."

"…Yeah."

They were silent, everything was silent.

No one knew what happened.

Had Dean caused the crash? Was the man in the other car not paying attention?

Everyone who knew what had happened was dead.

No one knew.

Cas didn't care.

All he knew was that he had promised Dean forever, and he would stick to his promise.

He would love Dean forever.

There was no one else, because Dean was everything, everywhere, everyone.

He started writing him letters, and he never stopped.

Dear Dean,

I adopted a little girl and named her Mary, after your mother.

I keep telling her that she has two daddies, but one of them had to leave to soon. I show her pictures of us together and whenever she sees you, she says "Da-da."

She's so sweet.

I wish you could see her.

Dammit, Dean. Why did this happen?

I love you so much.

I will never stop loving you.

Mary and I still live in that little apartment, but when I graduate in a couple months, I'm going to buy a little place—the one you always drove really slowly next to. The one you said would be perfect.

I didn't know what to do without you.

I still don't know what to do.

I'm losing my mind.

I'm losing everything.

I lost the thing that was the most important to me—I lost you. And I lost the ability to breathe and see and think and speak and say your name without crying.

Mary makes it better. I call her by her middle name—Eve. But in my letters I call her Mary, because if you were alive, I think that's what you would want us to call her.

Her sweet little voice gives me hope. I don't cry when she's in the room, so I try to keep her in the room.

It still hurts **so much, **so much, Dean. But I've stopped wanting it to hurt, and I think that's the first step.

Dammit, Dean. Dammit.

That started after you died, too. The cussing. I didn't used to do that.

But without you here…

I want you back. I would do **anything **to get you back.

I miss you so much.

Love you forever,

Cas

Dear Dean,

Mary started kindergarten yesterday.

Also, Sam told me that the date you chose for our marriage is his birthday. And the song you told me was your favorite is actually **his **favorite song.

It turns out, the college football team you always rooted for was actually his favorite.

You had these ways of working him into our everyday life and I didn't even notice.

Why is it that I'm learning so much about you now that you're gone?

Why is it that you're gone?

Why?

Miss you, baby.

I made an album out of all the pictures of us. I wish there were more. Why didn't we take more pictures together, Dean?

God, how it hurts.

Love,

Cas

Dear Dean,

I bought that house, but I don't have enough stuff to fill it up.

Sammy let me keep the Impala, and I swear I will never change the license plate. It will always be the way you had it.

KAZ-2Y5

It's just another way of remembering you.

I find that I do the same thing you did with Sammy.

I tell people your favorite song is mine. I tell them your favorite colors are mine. I tell them that you are me.

I guess becoming you is my way of keeping you close.

Why the hell did this happen?

Oh, my love.

I keep both our rings—the ones we were going to receive on May 2nd—on my each ring finger.

God, Dean.

I want you back.

Love,

Cas

Dear Dean,

Eve—Mary—says that sometimes she hears someone tell her that they love her in her dreams, and I like to think that it's you.

I still dream about you.

It's been a year and a half.

It feels like days and millennia.

I fucking miss you.

I haven't been able to say this yet—I never managed to say this to you, once you were gone. But I'm saying it now, because I guess I forgot to.

Goodbye, Dean.

You still have the rest of my forevers.

Love you forever,

Cas, your sweetheart, your baby

PS. I still cry when I say your name.


End file.
